


Nowhere and Everywhere

by RyleeWyatt



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyleeWyatt/pseuds/RyleeWyatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lonely song by a lonely man is heard by none for many years. He plays to forget, he plays to remember. The piano consumes his days in a life never ending, holding a slim hope that someday, somebody will hear his mourning tune.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lonely Song of the Lonely Man

_The music seemed to come out of nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Its melody was mourning and lonely, the player channeling their emotions into it, causing the piano tones to take a life of its own. Despite its sadness, the beauty of the song was unmatched, and permeated the souls of anybody who heard it._

_But nobody ever did. It was a lonely song by a lonely man, forever secluded, forever wishing for a companion. It was a song by a man who had lived a long time, and had since come to the realization that he’ll never find true happiness, and covered it up by playing his grand piano, its glossy surface starting to fade after years of intense use and care. The piano bench worn from years of use as well, the fabric faded and fraying at the edges. The keys yellowed and difficult to press down. However, the lonely song of the lonely man continued, seeming to come out of nowhere and everywhere, for nobody to hear._


	2. Perfection

Mosquitos were everywhere, buzzing incessantly around Vash’s ears as he walked around the construction site, men and women working tirelessly in the mostly sunny day, on the edge of a small town in Austria. His clipboard gripped tight in his left hand and a pen in the other, the short, blond man went around the site, checking the progress of the workers, and making sure everything was up to code and being done properly. He could look at a nail in wood and tell if it was crooked; he could tell if a beam was centimeter to the left. His eye for perfection and safety had landed him this job early on in his career, for which he was thankful. He had a sister to get through private school, after all.

There was a smack on his arm and he jumped back, prepared to hit the smacker with his clipboard.

Ludwig lifted his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, Vash. There was a big one on your arm.”

Vash scowled and looked down at his now red arm, covered in blood and mosquito guts.

“Please get back to work.”

Ludwig rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir.” He turned and picked up his saw, cutting boards. Vash watched his technique for a bit, before he put a checkmark on his board, calmly wiping the mess from his arm and onto the side of his suit pants.

Walking on, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was very hot, in the height of summer, and he was wearing a full suit, as required by his job as a safety inspector. However, it was obviously a poor clothing choice for the current weather. Vash just paused under the shade of a tree, ducking below a beam that nearly smacked his head as a person carried it by. Re-catching his balance, he flipped through some pages on his clipboard and scratched out an angry X on one space, glaring after the offending beam.

The construction site was to someday hold an office building for Greentech Systems, a company that had started its beginning in the United States of America, eventually spreading throughout Europe. They sold equipment for clean energy and other “green” practices for both “The Home and Workplace”, as their slogan informed Vash. As to why they decided to build the office in a small town, Vash only had an inkling of the reason, which may have to do with the lack of jobs available for the town inhabitants. The actual factory was near Vienna.

The office building was in the structural stages, one of Vash’s most busy inspecting times. He was almost always on the site, making sure everything was...perfect.

However, after another hour of walking in the sweltering heat, the sun moved to perfectly overhead, and Vash noticed something was off. His head felt stuffed full of cotton, and his mouth was dry. His heart was beating rapidly, and something was off about his vision. He was next to the building now, watching a woman hammer a support beam. Every hit made him flinch, and he looked down at his clipboard, and noticed it was shaking. Then, it started to fade to black.

* * *

Vash slowly came to consciousness, his body feeling heavy and his mouth dry. He squinted against the light and, through his blurry vision, looked at the room he was in. It only took a few seconds for him to realize he was in a hospital bed, an IV drip attached to his arm. He pressed the call button on the side of the bed.

A nurse hurried in and smiled at him.

“Good, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

He coughed and attempted to speak as she took his vitals. Finally, he got out a “thirsty”, and she brought him a large hospital cup with a straw, which he drank slowly and shakily.

“Your sister, Lili, is out in the hall. Do you want to see her?” Vash nodded, and the nurse left, Lili replacing her. She rushed over to the bed and gave him a gentle hug.

“I was so worried! They said you passed out at work and I got a ride from Georgie’s mom to here. Are you feeling alright?”

He slowly scooted to a better sitting position with Lili’s help, and nodded. “Alright is a good word for it. You said I passed out.”

“You had heat exhaustion. I told you, you work too hard, brother.” She patted his arm and smiled, while he rolled his eyes.

“It’s not my fault it’s so damn hot outside.” He grumbled, sipping his water. “When can I get out of here?”

Lili sat down in a chair next to the bed. “When they say you’re rehydrated. You need to drink more water.” She rifled around in her purse and pulled out his phone and handed it to him. “You got a message from work.”

He took the phone and put in the passcode, opening up the text. It was from his boss, and it said, “Come to my office at 2pm tomorrow to discuss a reassignment.” Vash sighed and set the phone down next to him.

“They want to reassign me.”

“Is that bad?”

He shook his head. “Not necessarily. I’ll probably start working indoors or something. It doesn’t look good on the company when one of their inspectors pass out.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “How have you been doing, Lili?”

Even if he called her every day and saw her once a week at her school in Vienna, he still didn’t get much chance to talk to her, since he worked often and her schooling was demanding.

“I started working on a new piano piece yesterday. I forgot the name, but it’s really pretty. My grades are still good in everything else. Michelle and I did a sculpture together in arts.”

“You two are still getting along?”

“She’s really nice. You don’t have to worry, brother.”

He opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, but I do. It’s my responsibility to look after you.”

She smiled. “Of course. I’ll go talk to the nurse.” Lili got up and left, closing the door softly behind her.

Vash drank more of his water, picking up his phone again and replying to his boss, saying he would make it to the meeting. He looked at the news until Lili returned with the nurse that Vash had seen earlier.

The nurse wrote a few things on the clipboard at the end of his bed. “Doctor Ulrich will be in shortly to give your final evaluation before you’re relea-” She was cut off by a doctor rushing into the room, breathing heavily.

“I got this, Katlyn. Thanks.” He leaned against the wall as the nurse nodded and left, Vash and Lili staring at the doctor while he caught his breath. Once he did, he looked up and gave a bright smile to Vash, his grey eyes almost looking eccentric. He picked up the clipboard.

“Heat exhaustion with quite a bit of dehydration? Let’s see…” He checked Vash’s vitals and looked at his water cup. “Right. You can take that with you.” He gave Vash a stern look. “Drink as much water as possible, and keep off your feet for the next few days. Let’s see you try to stand real quick before we release you.”

Vash got up shakily, Lili rushing over to his side and helping him. Once he found his balance, he stood straight up, holding onto the bed for support, taking deep breaths.

Dr. Ulrich had him sit back down. “I’ll have a nurse walk you out in a wheelchair. Your sister said you had transportation. Just keep off your feet for the next few days or so, drink a lot of water, and keep cool.” He smiled and the nurse brought in the wheelchair, Vash being sent home and Lili taken back to school.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I've never written Switzerland or Liechtenstein, so tell me how I did? I took some liberties with the characters, of course. Michelle is Seychelles, by the way. For some reason I think they'd make great friends.  
> Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading!


	3. Reassignment

Vash now sat on the couch, reading a large novel. It was the first volume in a large set that was a complete explanation of every war in known history. Every several years, the authors would publish a new novel of wars passed. It had been a gift from his parents after he graduated college, but he was just now getting around to read it.

Slowly making some dinner for himself, he settled back on the couch, balancing the plate on the armrest of the couch. Before he could start eating, his phone rang.

“Hello?”

It was Lili. “Hi big brother. How are you doing? Are you drinking your water?”

Vash glanced over to the water cup on the end table next to him and saw it was only half empty; he had refilled it after he got home from the hospital on the insistence of the girl who was calling him now.

“Um, yes.”

There was a pause on the other line and a tiny sigh. “Brother, how much?”

He couldn’t lie to her. She knew him too well. “About half. I’m eating dinner now so I’ll drink the rest of it while I’m eating, okay?”

“Promise?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I promise, Lili.”

“Goodnight, Vash.”

“Goodnight.” He hung up the phone and set it down, grabbing the hospital jug and glaring at it for a second, then chugging down half of the remaining water, then going to work on his actual food.

* * *

The next morning he woke up promptly at 10:00, which was extremely late for him. He frowned at the alarm clock, which he had set to 7:30, but he either didn’t hear it, or it didn’t go off. Vash decided waking up late one day wouldn’t hurt. He was feeling better; his head wasn’t hurting as much and he didn’t feel as dizzy as he stumbled his way into the kitchen, refilling his water bottle and drinking a good quarter of it before he searched the kitchen for something to eat.

Vash lived in a small, one-bedroom house that had a good-sized and clean kitchen, a livingroom, a half-bath and a bathroom connected to his room, and a small, fenced backyard. As usual, it was impeccably clean, everything with a neat and orderly place. He didn’t have a television, but instead had a large bookshelf in the livingroom containing most of his book collection, the others in a smaller shelf in his room.

The house was a kilometer and a half away from the construction site that he had been previously working at, and the inspection office was about 20 minutes from his house. Sitting down at his small breakfast table, he ate his toast plain and drank more water.

After breakfast, he took a shower and got dressed, deciding he felt good enough to take the short walk to his mailbox. He grabbed his keys and stepped out his front door, locking it securely behind him and started down his front walkway.

The neighborhood he lived in was mainly smaller houses, but they were well-kept and clean. Most people were friendly, and every few months the cul de sac he lived on would have a small barbeque. Sometimes he would attend, just to seem friendly for an hour or so and then return back to his house. People were nice, but they also kept out of your business which was the main reason Vash had chosen this neighborhood.

* * *

Coming back inside with his mail, he shifted through it, making two piles on the kitchen counter; one for junk mail, and another with bills, letters, etc. Taking the important mail to the couch with his glass of water, he pulled out his old laptop and paid his bills.

After eating a small lunch, he filled one of his own water bottles, grabbed his car keys, and headed out the door to his reassignment meeting with his boss.

* * *

He arrived an hour early, but told the secretary up front that he was waiting. She told him she would inform the boss, and he sat down with his war history book.

At 1:45, Vash was called into the office. Sitting behind a large desk, Mr. Kirkland waved Vash to one of the chairs in front of his large desk. He was hunched over a few documents, signing and crossing out things. After finishing a page, he finally looked up at Vash and smiled slightly.

“How are you doing, Vash? Feeling any better?”

“I get lightheaded if I’m walking or standing for too long, but other than that, I’m fine.” He knew better than to lie to Mr. Kirkland who could practically sense when another person was lying to him.

His boss nodded. “Well, let’s get to the main subject of your visit.” He pulled out a document from the pile on his desk (which Vash had the urge to organize for him) and handed over. It was a reassignment order. Instead of inspecting construction sites, Vash would be inspecting houses, mainly old ones, around the area, determining if they needed work or if they just needed to be torn down.

“Pay will be the same,” Mr. Kirkland assured him. “However, if you were to pass out on the job again, we may have some legal issues.”

“Of course.” Vash mumbled, as he looked over the document. “When will I start work again?”

“What were the doctor’s orders? You have plenty of rollover paid leave days if you wanted to use those.” Mr. Kirkland opened up a drawer in his desk and leafed through the folders. “I know I have your bloody file here somewhere…”

“I have 22 paid leave days. And I was recommended a couple days’ rest.”

Mr. Kirkland closed the drawer and nodded. “Then just come back in on Monday. It’s Wednesday, so that’ll give you enough rest time. You’ll get your first assignment that morning.”

Vash stood up and shook Mr. Kirkland’s hand, leaving the office and driving back home, wondering what his new job would be like.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter, basically. Yup.  
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Inspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Initial inspections turn out to be more interesting than you might think.

The house was something straight out of a horror film, with faded paint, rotting wood, and broken windows. It was a dull brown color, and the siding and railings looked like they used to be painted white, but it was a faded brown color as well. Despite the fact that it was three stories tall, you could barely see it from all the overgrown trees. The rest of the landscaping was pretty much impenetrable, and the path to the front porch was considerably narrowed from the overgrowth crawling over it. Luckily, the three of them didn’t have to enter yet, and were standing out in the street.

“Structural problems,” One of Vash’s new partners, Berwald, mumbled. The other, Mathias, nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, the locals say it’s haunted and stuff. Some ghost junkies go in there for ghost hunting and…” He paused for effect. “Never come out!”

Vash rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Now, what are we supposed to be doing right now?”

Berwald went over to the truck and came back with some flashlights and hard hats. “It’s safe to go inside.”

Vash grabbed a hat and light. “Why do we need to go inside?”

“They have it scheduled for demo.” Mathias said as he struggled to get his helmet on. “If we can determine it’s safe and not a hazard, then, since it’s so old, it’ll become a historical marker.” Berwald nodded in agreement.

Vash stared up at the house, unsure if he actually wanted to go in it. He wasn’t superstitious in the least; he always laughed at his peers when they would step over cracks and insist ghosts were real. If he saw a ghost, it would be a different story. But he had never really seen any proof of one existing, or why a ghost would exist.

Matthias started towards the house first, Berwald close behind with a duffel bag of what Vash assumed were tools of some kind. When the former came to the door, he wiggled the door knob and turned back to the two of them.

“Anybody have the key?”

As Berwald rummaged around in the bag, Vash took more time looking around the area. It was almost like they were in a wooded area, though down the road a few hundred feet there were barely any trees. He assumed that behind the house the forest began. Despite the amount of foliage, it was nearly silent, the only noises being a slight breeze and the two men next to him arguing about the key.

Vash then looked at the house. They were up on the front porch which was raised up three creaky steps. Decrepit benches were built into the side of the house, and chains to what might have been a swinging chair hung off to the right end of the porch. The windows, Vash noticed, were covered with heavy, and surprisingly white sheets. He looked up to see the floorboards of the balcony on the second floor, a few holes letting some light through.

An “ah ha!” startled Vash out of his intense inspection of the house. They stepped through the door and closed it behind them, taking in the inside.

It looked surprisingly in-tact for a home that looked so terrible on the outside. It was slightly dusty, and furniture was covered with plastic wraps, the carpets on the floor looking threadbare and dirty. However, nothing was broken or seemingly out of place. The entrance hall they were standing in lead directly to a nice-sized staircase leading upstairs and off to either side were archways leading into other rooms.

“It doesn’t look that bad.” Mathias gave the floor a couple of firm stomps. “Floor seems solid too. Vash go upstairs. Waldo can go left. I’ll go to the right.”

Vash was confused that they didn’t at least go around as a group. What if somebody feel through the floor suddenly. Looking around again, he seriously doubted there was anything structurally wrong with the house, despite it being around 400 years old. He cautiously walked up the stairs. Since it was his first day on the job, he was more expected to observe the other two, but he supposed he could do his own thing for now, since they seemed to be in their own worlds at the moment.

The stairs opened up to a long hallway to his front, and then two pathways that went left and right that looked over the railing to the first floor, and held several doors on either side. Vash elected to go down the middle hall first, having to turn on his flashlight. He heard the first scuffle when he was nearly halfway down the hall, and he froze in his tracks, listening for another sound. Soon enough, there was another one, and, as quietly as he could, walked towards the sound, which came from a door on his left.

Leaning close to the door, he struggled to hear another sound. Sure enough, a minute later there was a quiet thump, then a giggle.

A _giggle_? In a 400 year old house? Quickly, he opened the door and stormed in. It was an old bedroom, blue and majestic, but dulled and torn with age.

“Hello?” Vash asked quietly. “I heard somebody laugh…” He looked under the bed and behind the dresser, even cautiously opening a closet, only to discover a roach and a few dusty dresses.

He looked around the room again, deciding to forget about it and that it must’ve been nothing. He continued down the hallway when he heard the giggling. Again.

Yanking open another door he looked around again, and still saw nobody. However, when he turned around, a woman was standing in the door frame, her long brown hair slightly messy and a grin on her face.

“Who are you?” Vash demanded. “This is property of the government.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then why are you here?”

“I’m helping to inspect it. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

At that, the woman’s expression became despondent. “I can’t.” She gripped the doorframe. “I can’t leave this place.”

Vash was growing frustrated. “Yes, you can. I’ll show you the way.” He came closer to her, meaning to grab her arm, but she violently jerked away.

“I can’t!” She wailed, running out into the hallway.

“Wait!” Vash called out to her, chasing her out. However, when he looked up and down the hallway, he didn’t see her. And he hadn’t heard any doors close. That really only left the stairs, which he started for.

As he reached the end of the hallway, he was startled to see a man waiting for him. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a grin on his face. His white hair and pale skin contrasted sharply with the darkly papered walls.

“And who are you? Do you know that woman?”

“Hah! So you met Liz? You kinda pissed her off, you know. The ‘stuck here for eternity’ thing really eats at her.”

“What?” Vash heaved a great sigh. “Whatever. I don’t know who you people are, but might be potentially unsafe.”

The man laughed. “Oh, that’s not really a problem for us.” Suddenly, his grin turned into a menacing scowl, and Vash could swear his eyes were glowing red. “I would suggest _you_ leave.”

Vash backed away slowly, then went quicker down the stairs, calling to Berwald and Mathias. When he looked back up, the white haired man was gone.

* * *

“So we searched the house and the surrounding area. No persons of your description were found. We also haven’t had problems with squatters or gangs around the area. Perhaps they were just passing through. However, next time call us directly as soon as you see them, and we’ll deal with them.”

Vash nodded as he talked to the officer in the station. He had decided to keep it from Mathias and Berwald because he almost felt like what everything seemed to be pointing to: that they weren’t really there. It was almost like they disappeared on the spot.

Maybe they were ghosts…

Vash nearly smacked himself on the head. They looked like normal people. A little strange, but considering they were likely homeless or something, they didn’t look too bad. What the man said, about them being trapped, that was a little concerning. Maybe they were just insane.

After signing a few papers, Vash went back home, exhausted and thirsty, which he remedied with a comfy spot on his couch, a large glass of water, and a book. He eventually fell asleep, dreaming vividly about old houses and ghosts, not remembering any in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm super busy with school and work, but if I get indications that people are reading (either with comments or kudos, though I prefer comments of course) then I'll be more motivated to update.   
> New characters:  
> -Berwald=Sweden  
> -Mathias=Denmark  
> -Brown-haired lady=Hungary  
> -White-haired guy=Prussia  
> "Hey, where's the SwissAus? That's what I came here to see!!" Don't worry. It will come.


	5. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody, readers new and old. I have been on a couple year hiatus due to starting college, and just simply falling out of fanfiction. I have recently gone on one of my loved/hated fanfiction binges, which always inspires me to start writing again. So here I am, posting another chapter. Enjoy!

The next day Vash found himself back in the old house, him, Mathias, and Berwald having to finish the inspection that was cut short the day before. They had searched the house earlier for anybody. Not finding anything other than a few mice, they split up again, Vash once again trudging back to the second floor. 

The middle hall was quite grand, a few small crystal chandeliers hanging, and a large arched window at the end. Like all the other windows in the house, it was hung with a bright white sheet. Vash made his way to the window, running his hand over the chipped and faded, but still beautiful dark wallpaper. A memory of the pale man from yesterday popped into his head, the red eyes seeming to burn even through the memory. He shuddered involuntarily, shaking his head and continuing towards the window. 

Finally getting there, he ran his hand over the fabric. It didn’t seem very dusty, despite nobody living in the house for decades. Pulling it to the side, he peered out the window. Part of the roof slanted down, the overgrown backyard, complete with a dirty angel fountain and old benches stretched out for a bit, then the woods started, thick enough that it seemed like night time within the woods. 

Vash shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the creepiness. While he was looking out the window, the temperature had dropped, and his breath was now fogging up the window. Letting go of the sheet, he turned around, immediately hearing a door down the hall slowly creaking. Gripping his clipboard tighter, Vash quietly made his way down the hallway, looking for the offending door.

Finding the one, which was now barely cracked open, Vash gently nudged it open with his foot. “Hello? Who’s there?”

Not receiving a response, he continued opening the door, discovering it was the same blue themed room he had seen the brown haired woman in. It didn’t seem any different, but slight scuffling noises drew Vash’s attention over to the bed. On the far side from the door where he stood, Vash could see the top of a brown haired head, which ducked suddenly as soon as he started into the room.

Making slow steps towards the bed, Vash looked around to make sure the white haired man wasn’t around. Bending down near the bed, Vash took a deep breath and exhaled, noticing his breath was still steaming from the cold.

“Ma’am?” He said gently. “I just want to talk. Do you need help?”

There was no response, not even a slight noise to confirm she was there. Vash stood up and peeked around the other side of the bed. Not seeing anybody, he crouched and looked under the bed, slowly pulling the old bedskirt up.

Nothing. He blinked a couple of times, then dropped the bed skirt and quickly looked around the room. He was sure he saw somebody on the other side of the bed. Standing up, he looked behind the dresser, mirror, and even opened up the closet. Still nothing. She must have slipped past him somehow. 

Vash started back towards the door, but froze when he realized the door was closed. When he had walked in, he hadn’t shut the door, nor had he heard it close. He should have heard it close; he could clearly hear the creaking earlier. The girl apparently was good at sneaking around and closing doors quietly, Vash thought, trying to keep positive, though he was starting to get seriously creeped out. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this job. 

His hands trembling slightly, Vash gripped the cold doorknob and opened the door, the hinges creaking angrily. As soon as he stepped out, he was met with the same tinkling giggle he’d heard the day before, coming from down the hallway towards the window, where a silhouette of the woman stood before the sheet-covered window. 

“Ma’am!” Vash called out, gently, but firm. He took slow steps towards her. “Ma’am, you’re not supposed to be here.” Pausing a few meters away from her, he could make out her bowed head, her hair covering her face. He hadn’t noticed what she was wearing the day before, but now she seemed to be wearing an old-fashioned dress of a dark green, her hands clasped and trembling in front of her. “Are you okay?”

Her head jerked up quickly after his last question, her face falling to an expression of immense sadness. “No…”

“You’re not okay?” He took a step closer. “I can call the police. They can help...you can go to a shelter or-”

“No!” She wailed, her back hitting the window behind her, the white sheet fluttering around her body. “No no no! I can’t leave!” 

Vash had jumped when she yelled, and was now quickly backing up while she buried her hands in her hair, shaking and sobbing. “I-I’ll go get somebody to help! Just stay he-” He was cut off when he bumped into something cold and solid behind him. Before he could react, freezing hands shoved him off, making him stumble as he quickly turned around. It was the white haired man from the day before, looking exasperated as he looked at the woman behind Vash, now curled up and sobbing into her knees.

“You’ve gone and done it again, blondie.” He said jokingly, shoving his hands into his dark jean pockets. He was wearing a worn black shirt with faded lettering Vash couldn’t make out. “Why are you back? Did we not scare you enough last time?”

Vash tried to straighten himself up, but the other man was still quite a bit taller than him. Berwald was the only one with service near the house, so Vash couldn’t call the police, and he didn’t know if the man would let him past to go get Berwald.

“I don’t want any trouble.” Vash said, keeping his voice even, trying to ignore the crying woman behind him. “But you’re really not supposed to be here, and the woman seems to need help.”

The man nodded, giving Vash a lazy smirk. “She needs help alright. But like I said yesterday,  _ you’re _ going to have to leave.” He started towards Vash, who quickly backed against the wall, prepared to fight, only to have the man walk past him towards the woman on the floor. Him distracted, Vash quickly made his way down the hall, looking back at the pair frequently to make sure they were still there. Reaching the end of the hall, Vash looked back one more time, only to discover they were gone, nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you all think? What's going on with the crying chick? Why is that pale dude always hanging around? Answers will be had soon. Drop me a review and give me some love, I couldn't bring my cats to college so I'm a bit love deprived.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a roll. And a happy reminder that I have a tendency to do short-ass chapters, full on James Patterson style. Please enjoy.

Deciding he’d only be called insane if he went to get Mathias and Berwald, only for the pair to have vanished like the day before, Vash decided to cautiously go down another hall, and chose the one to the left, constantly looking behind him to make sure the mysterious pair weren’t following him.

This hallway was smaller, and didn’t have any chandeliers. Instead it had old fashioned covered lightning. Since the window at the end was smaller, this hallway was also too dark for Vash to see properly, so he pulled out a flashlight Berwald had provided. Like the other hall, the wallpaper was chipped and faded. However, this one had a picture on the wall, something Vash hadn’t seen through the house. There were several paintings, mostly abstract or so faded they were indiscernible, but this was an actual photograph, hung halfway down the hall on the right.

Strangely, it was also partially covered with a white sheet, only the shoes and slacks of the rightmost figure visible, the sheet caught on an empty candle holder sitting on a small table below the picture. 

Looking around again, Vash carefully pulled the sheet aside, somewhat hoping for a picture of the man and the woman from the middle hallway, but was mildly disappointed to only see a stern family of three; a man with light brown hair and an off-putting, disapproving look, a sickly but beautiful woman with curly brown hair, and a young, serious boy about 10 or 11 with curly brown hair and rimmed glasses, sitting in front of, presumably, his parents. The woman was resting a gentle hand on his shoulder, but the man was standing only close enough to be in the frame. 

_ Seems unpleasant,  _ Vash thought, feeling slightly sorry for the boy and woman, figuring the man wasn’t much of a family guy. The picture didn’t seem too old, perhaps from the very early 1900s, judging from their clothing. 

Making a note to look up the history of the house, Vash continued with his inspection, still jumping at sounds and wielding his large flashlight like a weapon in front of him. Occasionally, he thought he could hear giggles or footsteps coming from the middle hall, but nothing bothered him. 

Reluctantly he made his way back to the intersection between the three halls and the staircase, having to walk by the middle hall to get to the third and final hallway. Taking a deep breath and pointedly not looking down the hall, Vash nearly ran to his last inspection area, breathing a sigh of relief when he reached it.

The third hallway was almost an exact copy of the second hallway, and Vash did the inspection in record time. After a couple hours of nothing bothering him, he was nearly convinced that he was actually imagining the crying woman and her pale bodyguard.  _ Nearly _ . He knew his imagination wasn’t that good, and his mind couldn’t make up tricks that convincing. Jokingly entertaining the idea that there was ghosts in the old house in his head, Vash tried to calmly stroll out of the hallway to the intersection to get to the stairs, but was stopped in his tracks by the woman in green standing between him and said stairs.

She had a pleading expression, her hands trembling in front of her. Frozen, Vash just looked at her, then quickly looked around for the man. Not seeing him, Vash turned back to the woman, slowly putting his hands up in a surrendering position. It was cold again.  _ Ghost, she has to be a ghost _ Vash’s mind insisted. 

Looking towards the railing that lead towards the first floor, Vash opened his mouth to call for his co-workers. Before the words even came mind fully, the woman had appeared right in front of him. Slightly taller, she tilted her head to look down on him, the pleading expression turning desperate. 

Before Vash could back away, she had gripped his shoulders in a cold, iron grip, the temperature dropping drastically. 

“Please…” She whispered. “Please help us.”

Trying to catch his breath from the cold seeping through his skin, Vash finally rasped out, “How? What do you want?”

She shook her head, her hair brushing Vash’s face. “Gilbert is scared of you. The living.”  _ They are ghosts. Shit.  _ “But...you can help.”

Now shivering, Vash tried to shake off the woman’s grip, but she wouldn’t even budge. “How?” He asked again, finding it harder and harder to breathe, the cold now affecting his lungs. 

She let go of him, slipping a hand into a pocket in her dress and pressing something small and cold into his hand and backing away. Vash stumbled, gripping onto the railing, trying not to pass out. 

“Come back after dark,” She said quietly. “He will talk to you then. He will tell you how you can help.” Looking around quickly, she leaned towards him. “I’ll keep Gilbert calm, don’t worry.” With that, she faded away, like mist dissipating. 

Rubbing his hands together to get some feeling back, Vash noticed he had dropped whatever she had given him. Seeing it on the ground, he carefully picked it up, turning it in his hand. 

It was a locket without a chain. Intricately detailed and a slightly tarnished silver, it was oval shaped with leaf and vine inlays. It looked vaguely familiar, and he curiously opened the locket, only to discover the exact same picture he had seen on the wall earlier, only in a miniscule version. However, in this version, the man in the picture, presumably the husband and father, had been  _ burned  _ off the side. Also, though it was hard to see with the scale of the picture, the woman was wearing what looked to be a silver, oval necklace, perhaps the same one he was holding now. 

“ _ He will talk to you then. He will tell you how you can help.” _

Who was  _ “he” _ ? Vash wondered, knowing it wasn’t the pale, red-eyed man, since she said she would keep him, “Gilbert”, away. So there was another ghost? Vash shook his head. It was crazy. He vaguely wondered if Berwald and Mathias were having supernatural issues of their own on the first floor. 

He was thankfully pulled out of his thoughts by Mathias calling up the stairs to Vash for lunch. Shaking the remaining cold from his hands and legs, Vash slipped the locket into jacket pocket and quickly joined the two, trying to sound normal as he outlined the stability of the second floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I am posting this, almost 12 in the morning, I am itching to do more, so I might write the other chapter real quick, haha.
> 
> Thanks for reading, drop a comment if you're feelin crazy today.


	7. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for implied and...not implied?...domestic & child abuse and neglect.  
> I didn't mean for this story to get so dark. Anyways.

_ “Get back inside Lena.” _

_ Lena looked up at her husband, twirling the parasol protecting her skin from the sun nervously. “Patrik...my love,” She swallowed nervously, looking back at their young son, who was gently poking at the fish in the angel fountain and giggling, his brown curls, the very image of hers, glittering in the bright sunlight. “Judith gifted me this lovely parasol, the sun won’t-” _

_ Patrik grabbed her arm harshly, her silver locket clinking against the chain as he jerked her off the bench, their son looking back, eyes wide and innocent.  _

_ “I have guests coming over,” Patrik hissed, his blue eyes harsh and steely. “I will not have you looking unpresentable.” He gave a dismissive wave towards their son. “Take him inside too. For all we know, you passed that  _ disease  _ onto him too.” He turned around sharply and went inside the manor. _

_ “Momma?” Her son had come up to her, his small, pale face looking up at her, as concerned as a three year old could be.  _

_ Lena gently took his hand and slowly led him towards the house, careful to keep the parasol between her exposed skin and the sun. “Roderich, my darling,” She said gently. “Your father is going to have people over. Please be good.”  _

_ Roderich nodded enthusiastically, even as Lena thought:  _ ...for your own good.

 

Vash’s eyes flew open, quickly realizing he was back in his own room. He sat up, his hands shaking. Closing his eyes for a second, he thought back to the dream he just had. It was one of the most realistic feeling dreams he’d ever had. Especially considering it was of the three people he saw in the photograph from the house he’d just helped inspect. The one with the ghosts.

He reached over to his nightstand, his hand finding the locket. It was still dark in his room, his alarm showing it was just past two in the morning. The locket was cold in his hand, but running his thumb gently over the texture calmed him. Turning the lamp on next to his alarm, he opened the locket and looked at the burnt picture within. It only confirmed that he had actually dreamed of the family, years before the picture was taken. 

Closing the locket, he wondered if the memory was real or if he was making stuff up in his sleep. Mentally shaking his head, he thought back to the house. There was something supernatural going on there, so it almost wouldn’t surprise him if the locket was sending him visions. 

“ _ Come back after dark. He will talk to you then.”  _ The words of the ghost woman in the house came back to him, and he looked outside. It certainly was dark. Also a great time to fall into a trap if it happened that he was actually crazy and she was real, wanting him to come back after dark, alone, so she and her crazy friend - or friends - could murder him.

But at the same time… he wanted to ask her if his dream was real. Maybe they were who he was supposed to save…

His eyes falling shut from a sudden wave of exhaustion, Vash was quickly pulled back to unconsciousness, the locket still in his hand. 

 

_ “Again.” Patrik’s cold voice commanded Roderich, who gave a weak “yes, Father” and reset the sheet music, restarting the piece for the fourth time that day. His fingers were starting to cramp, but he didn’t dare complain. His father didn’t like complainers.  _

_ They were up in the attic. It was partially furnished. The beams were exposed, but the floor was done enough that it was safe to be up there. It was spacious, with no windows. The only piece of furniture was an old grand piano, where Roderich often spent his days practicing. _

_ They had a beautiful grand piano in the sitting room, and Roderich would play that one when guests came over. They would ooo and ahh, commenting how talented and intelligent he must be. His mother would smile and nod, not speaking. She no longer wore her silver locket. His father would give a fake proud smile and give fake brags about his “brilliant” son.  _

_ However, after the guests left, he would drag Roderich up to the attic, to the old, worn piano, and make him play until he couldn’t play anymore.  _

_ “That chord in the second movement was horrible. You embarrassed me again. Your incompetence disgusts me.”  _

_ Roderich would just keep playing, the music the only brightness in the dusty, dark attic. But its brightness was marred by the man standing behind him.  _

_ “A wife that can’t stand the sun and can’t lift a broom, a son who can’t even play Beethoven properly. I don’t deserve this incompetence.” _

_ Sometimes, if Roderich’s table manners weren’t perfect or his bed wasn’t made properly, Patrik would lock him in the attic for hours at a time. When he was younger, his mother was brave enough and healthy enough to unlock the door for him, but as her health and will deteriorated, Roderich would be left to fend for himself until his father decided he’d had enough and let him out. He would often pull out the silver locket his mother had pressed into his hand after a particularly nasty encounter with his father when he was six. She had covered his hands with her bruised ones, telling him she wanted him to have a part of her in case she left someday. Patrik had been burned out of the picture. _

_ He longed to go outside, back into the sun. He would often huddle in front of a giant window when his father was out, letting the sun that shone through warm his skin. His mother couldn’t stand the sun; she would get painful red marks, and his father would get angry, calling her “disgusting” and “ugly”. Patrik would often confine her to a room at the back of the house along the left hall upstairs, which had the windows completely covered. She was only let out when guests were over, and carefully avoided the sun.  _

_ When he was 13, Roderich decided he’d had enough. _

 

A new day, another home. Vash, Mathias, and Berwald had been assigned an old mill a few miles away from the mansion they’d just inspected. According to Berwald, the mansion was going to be dedicated as a historical site, and would be preserved. 

“It was structurally sound,” Berwald said. “It’s too old to tear down.”

Vash was relieved. The second dream the night before had left him more distressed than the first. It was just as realistic, and he could still hear the haunting melody of the Beethoven song the boy - Roderich - had been playing over and over again. He needed to go back and get answers. He needed to know the rest of the story.

The mill was fairly small and more dangerous than the mansion, since it looked visibly run down and decrepit. The trio donned their hard hats and went around together.

Distracted by his dreams, Vash kept running into things and nearly tripping. The third time he ran into Mathias, he turned around, looking annoyed.

“What’s wrong with you? You look exhausted, and that hard hat is only goin’ to help you so much if you get skewered by a pipe tripping over a pebble.” Berwald rolled his eyes, but Mathias just looked at him expectantly.

Vash looked away and shrugged. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Mathias shook his head. “Just be careful. Don’t go passing out on me. Kirkland would  _ kill  _ me.”

Vash tried and probably failed to keep the embarrassed flush off his face as he remembered his last on-the-job fainting spell. Berwald just gave him a sympathetic look and gently pushed Mathias onward, away from Vash, who carefully followed them. 

 

Six hours later found him standing outside of the beautiful mansion he had seen in both dreams and real life. The sun was setting and a cold breeze made his hair brush across his face. Vash pulled the locket out, looking at it in the dull light. It seemed to pull him towards the house, towards memories almost forgotten. 

As soon as the sun completely faded behind the hills to the west, a gentle piano melody started from inside the house. Beethoven.

Almost in a trance, Vash walked up the steps towards the front door, which opened on its own accord, and Vash plunged into the darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> Review if you think going into a creepy house at night with ghosts is a good idea. Or a bad idea.


	8. Luminious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I wasn't taking my meds for a few days and I was highly unmotivated to do anything. But, here you go!

The cold was nearly unbearable as Vash walked into the mansion. He just barely made it inside when the door suddenly swung shut behind him, causing him to jump. Now he was in almost in complete darkness, the diffused light from the sheets not enough for his unadjusted eyes. He slipped the locket into his jacket and tried to keep his breathing even, but was slowly starting to panic.

Breathing and heartbeat steadily getting quicker, and mind going into “flight” mode, Vash backed up until his fingertips he’d extended behind him hit the heavy, wooden door. Turning back around, he felt for the knob. Finding it, he struggled to turn it, only to discover the door was locked, and the lock was not budging, no matter how much strength he put into it.

Eyes slowly adjusting, Vash could now make out the outlines of furniture and walls. Straining his ears, he realized the piano music had faded away, momentarily forgotten in his panic over the sudden darkness and locked door. Staying silent for a few more moments, the only sound Vash could hear was his own, still slightly labored, breathing. The silence was entirely oppressive, and the cold only added to the eeriness.

He blinked, and a flash of one of his dreams appeared in his vision; the boy, Roderich, being forced to play the piano, his shoulders hunched, defeated. The vision was gone as quickly as he came, and Vash felt compelled to take out the precious silver locket. Inserting a slightly shaky hand into his pocket, he took it out, surprised it was slightly warm to the touch. Vash thought it was just because his hands were cold from the mansion’s extreme temperature.

Creaking floorboards made Vash’s head snap up towards the second floor railing. Anything past the middle of the twin staircases was shrouded in even deeper shadow than the first floor where Vash stood at attention. The creaks were clearly footsteps making their way towards the stairs. They were slow, measured.

Desperately hoping it was the ghost woman, Vash pressed himself closer to the wooden door, squinting to see who was coming down the grand staircase, but they were still in the shadows. Clenching the locket tighter, Vash noticed the locket was growing warmer, almost pulsing in time with the mysterious person’s footsteps.

A figure seemed to slowly emerge out of the shadows about halfway down the staircase, steps still slow and steady. It was what Vash thought was a smaller man’s shape; neither matching the woman or man, the _ghosts,_ Vash had previously met in the mansion. He seemed to be resting his hand lightly on the railing, the other behind his back, which was perfectly straight and composed. His head was tipped forward, hair obscuring the top half of his face.

The closer he got, the more details Vash could make out. A suit style that looked years out of style, but well-fitting. Dark hair. Extraordinary pale skin. The locket was almost burning him now, but Vash couldn’t let go. He was frozen in place, both literally and metaphorically, the cold bearing down on him in conflict with the pain in his left hand. His lungs felt icy and his arms felt heavy, his mind telling him to _move_ but all he could see was the figure advancing towards him, slow and steady.

Then Vash got a glimpse of his eyes as he stepped off the last stair, looking back up to stare directly into Vash’s eyes. They were bright, almost glowing and reflective in the minimal light like a cat’s, and a stunning shade of light purple Vash had never seen before.

Another vision of a dream appeared to him, this time painful, almost urgent; Roderich’s lilac eyes full of barely concealed tears as he replayed the song for the tenth time.

The man, leisurely walking up to Vash, was now only a few meters from him. Vash could now almost make out his facial features, though they seemed to blur, overtaken by the man’s piercing gaze. Painful memories of a boy named Roderich and the image of the beautiful, luminous man before him were mixing and jumbling in his mind and invading his vision, flashes of an innocent child and mysterious man fighting for control of his consciousness. He was almost close enough to touch.

He felt like he was drowning in a million memories, a million feelings. He was barely in the present; the past had a grip on him and was tugging him down, not even the heavy wooden door he was leaning on for support could ground him. The cold came and went with his visions. A sunny, warm day. The cold, oppressive attic. The freezing, dusky foyer.

Vash was almost ready to float away with ihs mind, ready to let go, until a cool hand grasped his left one, gently prying the burning locket from his fingers.

The effect was almost instant, the overwhelming cold waking him from the visions. Quickly straightening up when he was able, Vash’s eyes found the man. He had backed up a few meters, and was gently holding the, now open, locket, his glowing eyes once again hidden by the curly locks of dark hair.

As if sensing Vash was watching him, the man turned to face him again. Vash’s eyes seemed to be mostly adjusted, and could almost see the man’s facial details clearly. Tearing his eyes from the man’s hypnotic gaze, Vash saw his posture was proper and perfect, but it held a sense of impossible effortlessness and grace. Vash’s attention snapped back to the man’s face as he clicked the locket shut and slipped it into his front suit pocket.

Then he just...stared at Vash, his expression carefully blank and expectant.

Finally having mostly recovered from the mental onslaught he received earlier, Vash cleared his throat, and shakily asked, “W-who are you?” He clenched his fists, trying to get the trembling under control. “What am I doing here?”

At the second question, the man’s expression turned into an amused smirk, and Vash caught sight of perfect, white teeth. “I do believe it was _you_ that took up Erzsebet’s offer.” His voice was musical and almost as entrancing as his eyes, washing over Vash like a winter breeze.

“You didn’t answer my first question.” he demanded, feeling more confident as the man made no moves towards him, but still wary of the entire situation.

With slow, graceful steps, the man closed in on him again, with a knowing smirk on his lips. Shorter, Vash almost felt trapped as he came close enough for Vash to feel the cold off his skin, different somehow from the two ghosts he had met previously.

Locking Vash in place with his entrancing eyes, the man retrieved the locket from his suit with his right hand and pressed it into Vash’s left, while using his own left hand to gently tuck one side of the blond’s hair behind his ear. He broke the gaze to lean down and whisper in Vash’s ear as he held Vash’s hand around the burning locket, his cool hands almost making the burning bearable.

_“Remember.”_

Vash remembered, swallowed by the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please drop a comment!


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